Wild Child

She leaned closer, her breast brushing his side, one hand braced on his arm. “I’ve been wanting all morning to kiss you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She lowered her lips to his and his arms came up to encircle her, pulling her down onto him. She angled her mouth more firmly against his and threaded her fingers through his hair. His lips were full and firm against hers, caressing sensitive nerve endings and sending waves of pleasure through her.

She opened her mouth, inviting his tongue, reveling in his taste of sweetness and salt. He smelled of seawater and clean sweat, and his skin beneath her hands was rough with sand.

He smoothed his hands down her back, caressing her skin, lingering over the indentation at the bottom of her spine, shaping his fingers to her buttocks and squeezing gently. A sharp ache of desire welled within her, making her catch her breath at its intensity. She could not remember when any man had affected her this way.

Hands on either side of her hips, he pulled her tight against him, letting her feel the fullness of his erection, pressing against her own throbbing sex until a soft moan escaped her. She felt drunk with desire, as free and energized as she had in those few moments of riding the wave.

She broke the kiss and smiled down at Drew. “I like your idea of resting,” she said.

He reached up and brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I like you,” he said. “And I want to see a lot more of you.”

“I want to see a lot more of you.” She emphasized the words with a bump-and-grind movement against him.

“Yeah.” His voice was rough with desire. He smoothed his hands across her buttocks again. “I’d suggest we go back to my place right now, but Grandpa’s liable to walk in any time.”

“And Candy’s working back at our beach house.” Plus, Sara had never liked to bring guys to a place she shared with roommates. It was a personal rule of hers. Reluctantly, she pushed herself off him and sat in the sand.

He sat up and massaged her shoulder. “There’s something to be said for anticipation.” He lifted her hair to kiss the back of her neck, sending another wave of desire straight to her sex.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and leaned against him. “Should we go back into the water?”

He glanced out at the ocean. “Waves are getting a little rough,” he said.

For the first time, she noticed that the wind had picked up, ruffling her hair and blowing sand over them. The swells were larger now, breaking roughly into whitewater, tangles of seaweed bobbing among the foam. “Is a storm coming?” she asked.

He glanced at the sky, where the sun still shone. “Just a little afternoon turbulence.”

She glanced at the sky also, and was surprised to find the sun considerably lower toward the horizon. “What time is it?” she asked.

He checked his watch. “It’s after two. No wonder I’m starved.” He rose and offered her his hand. “Come back to the shop with me. I need to see how things are going and we can grab some lunch.”

“I really need to check in with my office,” she said. Knowing Candy was slaving away made Sara feel guilty. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d left Uncle Spence to his own devices so long. The thought made her stomach twist. He was probably having a panic attack.

They collected their boards and walked toward the more populated area of the shore. “I should probably try to get some work done this afternoon, too,” Drew said, sounding reluctant.

“We could get together again tonight,” she said. “And I should really be trying to get more points for the contest.”

“We could check out the carnival,” Drew said. “There are games and stuff there where I think you can win points.”

“I’d love that.” She squeezed his arm, enjoying the feel of the hard muscle of his bicep. “Ellie and Candy said something about a photo scavenger hunt on for tonight, too.”

“A photo scavenger hunt?”

“You have to take pictures of certain things—I don’t really know what, exactly. They’re supposed to post a list tonight.”

He laughed. “I’m game.” He glanced at her. “As long as we can find some time to be alone, too.”

She grinned. “I think that can definitely be arranged.” Even if she had to hang a Do Not Disturb sign on her door in the beach house, she was determined to get Drew alone—and naked—before too many hours had passed.

4

SARA WAITED until she’d left Drew at the Surf Shack before she turned on her cell phone. She was disappointed, but not surprised, to see that her voice mail was full of messages, all from Uncle Spence. Each message was increasingly more irate, until by the last one he was reduced to almost hysterical sputtering.

With a sigh, Sara punched in his number as she made her way toward the beach house. “Uncle Spence, I just got your messages,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Sara! Where the hell have you been?” He rushed on, not waiting for an answer. “I can’t find the Montoya file anywhere. And the survey company called, asking for the legal description of the McManus property. And where the hell is the ink for the fax machine?”

“The Montoya file is in the bottom right-hand drawer of my desk, under M. The legal description for the McManus property is available from the courthouse. Or you can look it up on the Web. The ink for the fax is in the supply cabinet. Top shelf.” Honestly. How did the man function at home?

“Why aren’t the files in the filing cabinet with everything else?” She could hear him slamming drawers and rummaging through papers.

“The files in the filing cabinet are completed transactions. The ones in my desk are current projects.” She was sure she’d told him this before, but because he didn’t expect to need the information, he hadn’t bothered to remember it.

“I found them,” he said. “When are you coming home? There’s a lot of work here that needs your attention.”

“Not until the end of the week. And it sounds as if you’re handling everything fine.” She shifted the phone to her other ear and forced optimism into her voice. “How did dinner with Mr. Granger go?”

“All right, I guess. He can be a real blowhard.”

Then why do you hang out with him? But she knew the answer to that. Uncle Spence cultivated people who were good business contacts, not necessarily good friends. This lack of people he could really trust in his life probably accounted for why he depended so much on her. What he needed were other people in his life. Real friends. Maybe even a romantic interest.

“Whatever happened to that woman you were dating for a while?” she asked. “Martha?”

“Magda.” A long silence. “She had to go back to Michigan to look after her father for a few months. After he died, we never got back together.”

“You ought to give her a call. The two of you always had fun together.”

“Maybe I should…” More rustling of papers. “I don’t have time for that now. Not while I’m trying to hold things together here with you gone.”

“Everything will be fine,” she said. “If anything else comes up, it can wait until I get back. It’s only a few more days.”

“People don’t like to be kept waiting, Sara. I’ve always told you that.”

“Waiting will teach them patience,” she said, and laughed, picturing the shocked expression on Uncle Spence’s face. Life was very serious business for him and she didn’t usually try to persuade him otherwise.

“I need that information for the McManus property right away,” he said. “Could you at least do that for me?”

The words to tell him to do it himself were there, on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Uncle Spence had always been very big on responsibility—as in her clients were her responsibility, even when she was on vacation. “All right. I’ll look them up when I get back to the beach house and e-mail them to you. But anything else will have to wait until I get home.”

“Keep your phone on in case I need you,” he said. “I don’t like being out of touch.”

“Reception isn’t always good out here,” she lied. “I think the film crew’s equipment must interfere with it or something.”

“I don’t know why those moviemakers have to take over public places when they’ve got acres of sound stages in Hollywood,” he said.

She didn’t bother to correct him. She was sure she’d told him about the Sin on the Beach festival, but of course, he hadn’t bothered to pay attention to that, either.